


Soot

by WitheringFeniks



Series: Rise From the Ashes [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal of Trust, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Civil War Team Iron Man, Cover Art, Loss of Trust, M/M, Missed Opportunity, Natasha Romanov Has Issues, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Natasha Romanov-centric, Natasha cares only for herself, Not Clint Barton Friendly, Not Natasha Friendly, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Not Wanda Friendly, One hand on the wrong steering wheel, Past Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov - Freeform, Phoenix Tony Stark, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Red Room (Marvel), Sociopathy, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, implied Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark, implied winteriron, looking out for only herself, looks can be deceiving, past Bucky Barnes & Natasha Romanov Friendship, past Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:48:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23824099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitheringFeniks/pseuds/WitheringFeniks
Summary: Natasha prides herself on her ability to read, manipulate and think of herself before everyone else.Natasha doesn’t make mistakes.Only that’s a lie. She’d made a mistake.A big one that took the shape of Tony Stark.She’s going to spend the rest of her life knowing she’d let one of the best things in her life get away and it was her own damn fault.She’d put all her eggs into one basket—the wrong one—and now she’s paying for it.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark
Series: Rise From the Ashes [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1651261
Comments: 33
Kudos: 1237
Collections: Winteriron all the time





	Soot

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my take on Natasha from this universe. I hope you like my take on her!
> 
> This is so soon after Embers, but honestly, I'm loving this piece and had to post it.
> 
> This is shorter than the previous two but I didn't want to draw it out further. I've got this thing going on where it starts one way and ends on the same topic lol. It wasn't intentional but now I've noticed I kinda like it.

* * *

Natasha was the best of the best.

There wasn’t another like her—well, the image of the Winter Soldier came to mind; the image of him training the Black Widow trainees. Brutally but efficiently.

Although, Natasha supposes there wasn’t much of the Winter Soldier left. A pity—Barnes didn’t seem too keen with his title of the world’s most prolific assassin. Had Natasha been in his place, she would have been proud of all her accomplishments.

So really, she _is_ the best of the best.

≈≈≈

The newly crown T’Challa doesn’t hide the disdain at having to allow her entrance into his country.

Her mouth tastes bitter at knowing T’Challa’s kindness had only been extended to Barnes but Rogers had misread that kindness into thinking they would be allowed safe haven until everything… _blew over_.

She’s seen to the villa they’re being kept in and she doesn’t drag out the time debriefing them all on how she was doing.

She has work to do.

≈≈≈

Natasha knows it will only be a matter of time before Stark caves and brings them all home. He was desperate for acknowledgement and greedy for having his ego stroked.

It was what made him so easy to manipulate to begin with.

Any day now, really.

≈≈≈

Rogers mopes the entire damn time Barnes is in cryo.

It grates on her nerves—especially since Maximoff was being a child by throwing a hissy fit about the fact they were forced to be fugitives and that she wants to go home to America and see Vision already.

Natasha finds it just a bit funny considering she wasn’t even an American citizen.

Barton was angry most of the time, hissing insults about Stark and the fact he was supposedly keeping him from his family.

Lang—the Ant-man, honestly Natasha has no idea why he got involved—mostly keeps to himself and he’s reading almost every time she sees him.

Wilson isn’t too far behind Lang. While he interacts, his guilt about Rhodes is always so damn palpable.

≈≈≈

She swallows the mouthful of yoghurt, feeling dissatisfaction settle her stomach. This wasn’t going the way she had predicted—everything she had on Stark said he’d have been bumbling and grovelling for their forgiveness already.

Her calculations had been all wrong; they shouldn’t be _wrong_.

They should be back at the Compound by now, back at their _home_.

Natasha hadn’t considered many places home before.

The manor which she’d trained, the Barton farm, and the Compound had begun to feel like it because of how protected it was against intruders.

But…

Natasha eyes the tablet displaying Stark’s Instagram page. Laura and her brood were all sat in a familiar but remodelled common room watching a film. Stark had obviously taken the photo, especially as he’d gone off in a tagging tangent.

_‘Laura finally let me educate the kids on Star Wars. Those poor children.’_

Laura was looking at the camera, amusement on her face as Nate sat on her lap, watching the film with all the interest a child his age could give. One—two? What was he again? Never mind, she wasn’t interested.

Where had she miscalculated?

She’d helped Rogers because she _knew_ Stark. Knew he would bend and help bring them back because they were the best things to ever happen in his damn worthless life. Only now she was stuck here, when she could have been at the Compound safe and in a perfectly trusted position all because she’d flipped to help Rogers and the Soldat.

Natasha was beginning to get frustrated—she was surrounded by these people almost twenty-four seven, she couldn’t even leave the villa for fresh air because King T’Challa had been clear with his rules on letting them stay.

≈≈≈

She reports her finding to Rogers like a good little subordinate because that’s what’s expected of her and she likes making people believe they can trust her so she can hoard all the information she can get her hands on.

Rogers has always been so trusting—too trusting it was almost completely past the point of hilarity.

≈≈≈

Once all of the others had gone to bed, she pulls Rogers to the living room to talk about Stark. How it’s only going to get _worse_.

As soon as she mentions Stark, however, Rogers starts off in a tangent of not receiving a call from then man.

Annoyance rushes through her at being cut off.

“He hasn’t called me.” Rogers clenches his jaw, arms crossing. Honestly, did he really expect Stark to call? Even Stark wasn’t that needy. “And now he’s doing all this? He doesn’t have the right—”

Bozhe moy, was this man really that stupid?

“—Actually,” She interrupts, wanting to nip that whole debacle before it grew unnecessarily. She didn’t want to deal with _that_. “He does, Fury gave him the rights to the Avengers name. He owns everything to do with it and even if he didn’t, he’s the sole benefactor for everything we had.”

She knows Fury only did that so he’d keep Stark invested, but its fireback on them now.

“You expected him to call you?” She continues, shrugging. “Stark’s ego wouldn’t allow him to admit defeat and that he needs us.”

Rogers frowned but nodded in agreement.

An idiot, honestly.

≈≈≈

Barnes does not like Rogers.

Natasha withheld the snort of amusement she wants to make at it.

He’d scarified so much for the damn man and now…

≈≈≈

She doesn’t bother telling Barton his wife—ex now by the looks of it—and his kids are at the Compound and the fact Barton had been replaced by a man known as Stephen Strange. He’s become a loose cannon and she doesn’t have time for that; doesn’t want to deal with that bullshit.

≈≈≈

Bitter resentment eats away at her as she watches how Stark fails to meet all her calculations and rises from the ashes of this so-called Civil War like nothing ever happened.

Only… he refused to speak about them whenever a reporter brings it up. Always saying “No comment.” or “Unfortunately, I don’t have the time to focus on them.”

He’s basically saying: I don’t care about them.

It makes her grit her teeth—how? How had this happened? Where the hell had she gone wrong?

≈≈≈

When the pardons finally arrive—pardons full of damn restrictions and regulations—she knows if she doesn’t act fast, she’ll lose whatever remaining grip on Stark she has and she _can’t_ allow that to happen.

≈≈≈

It was eight days after they arrive at the Compound that she finally gets her chance to encounter Stark.

He’s dressed to the nines, arriving back at the Compound after coming from a meeting late into the night. The common area lights are off and she’s using that to make sure Stark comes this way instead of walking off if he sees her already sitting here.

He’s on the phone with someone, someone familiar if the loose way he speaks is anything to go by. After hanging up, he slides his silken tie from his neck and tucks it into his pocket.

“Romanoff.” He greets coolly. He stares at her emotionlessly and it takes her back momentarily.

“What happened for Nat?” She smiles, rests her chin on her palm. It would only take a few to wear him down.

He stares for a moment, expression not changing.

It frustrates her that she can’t read him.

Stark tilts his head. “I think we’re long past that.”

Natasha doesn’t allow her face to show her annoyance—when had Stark grown a backbone exactly?

“Past what exactly?”

“Pretending you serve anyone but yourself.”

She stills as she puts on an open expression. “Why would you say that, Tony?”

“Because it’s a fact. When you spend so long around someone like me—well, noticing discrepancies are bound to happen.”

She says nothing for a long moment, how..? “Is this you lashing out, Tony? Trying to punish us? Is this your ego not allowing you to not come out on top?”

He hums, a smile curling at his lips as if he found this entire conversation _amusing_. Natasha wants to grit her teeth, snarl out all of his damn faults to remind him of his failures and why he doesn’t know better than anyone else.

That he doesn’t know how close to the truth he had been moments ago.

“No.” He gives her a levelled look. “This isn’t ego, this isn't pettiness, this isn’t anything that you would try and call it in an attempt to manipulate me. This? This is _apathy_ , Romanoff. It’s better than you deserve after all you’ve done not just to me but others too. But I guess you never accounted for this huh? You know what they say—you shouldn’t put all your eggs into one basket. It might just be the wrong basket.”

≈≈≈

This place isn’t… _safe_.

She can’t do what she wants, can’t move freely and so she’s right back at the beginning again. She feels like a damn child.

She sips at the tea. Tea that Bruce had gotten her addicted too ironically enough.

The thought of Bruce sits bitterly in her stomach. He was another one she failed to control—not for the lack of damn trying. She convinced him she’d fallen in love with him, only to have him turn on her.

In a burst of pettiness, she had shoved him off that edge to get Hulk out.

She doesn’t realise she’s not alone until their right behind her.

“Vdova.” _Widow_.

She tenses at the tone of the Soldat’s.

She’s familiar with it.

It’s the tone of disappointment he’d used when he taught them.

The tone he used when they disappointed him _immensely_.

She lets out a shaky breath and turns in her seat.

Barnes is shrouded in the darkness of the room. The light coming from the moon through the window catching his face just enough to illuminate his dark expression.

“Soldat.” She answers, manages to keep her voice even.

The tone had long repressed fear crawling up her spine. He’d always singled out the ones that had disappointed him and—taught them a lesson.

A harsh lesson. A lesson that often resulted in broken bones or concussions.

Madam B had always been elated to have the girls watch as he beat them. To show them what weakness would get them—that the Soldat was going _easy_ on them. That he could and had killed trainees that failed to meet expectations.

“I’ve heard you trying to talk to Tony.”

 _Tony_.

He was calling Stark _Tony_.

It filled a few blanks now. Barnes was always somewhere else now. She—and certainly Rogers—hardly saw the man expect when it came to the morning or evening. He hardly ate dinner with them and she could never find out where he’d been going but now…

He’d been making friends with the other Avengers.

He wasn’t the only one. Lang had bent under van Dyne’s gaze in an attempt to get back into the good books of his daughter and hopefully continue being Antman.

“I wanted to repair broken bridges.” She offers, putting up a tense smile in hopes to perhaps fool him into thinking she didn’t want a completely ruined friendship.

“I think you're lying to me.” His Russian accent—one that occasions appears for certain words—is there full force. His dark tone, coupled with the Russian, are… frightening.

Natasha wasn’t even going to attempt to lie to herself. “Why would you think that?”

He smiles, slowly, easy and friendly however his eyes are anything but. He takes a step forward, leans down until their noses almost touch. “Stay away from my feniks and I won’t have to…hm, rehash some old memories, as they say.”

She swallowed.

She had made another mistake.

Barnes had never stopped being the Winter Soldier.


End file.
